


Best Forgotten?

by TamerOfPickles



Series: Teen Wolf Kink Bingo - 2018 [17]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Amnesiac Stiles Stilinski, Anal Sex, Bottom Derek Hale, Condoms, Curses, M/M, Mild Blood, Minor Violence, Oral Sex, Rimming, Teen Wolf Kink Bingo, Teen Wolf Kink Bingo 2018, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamerOfPickles/pseuds/TamerOfPickles
Summary: After leaving Beacon Hills and wandering the world for years, Derek runs into a familiar face. However, Stiles does not remember him.





	Best Forgotten?

**Author's Note:**

> For the square Curses.
> 
> Thanks to thisnewjoe ([AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisnewjoe/pseuds/thisnewjoe), [Tumblr](https://thisnewjoe.tumblr.com/)) for beta-reading.
> 
> The art pieces mentioned in this work:  
> [A Polish Nobleman](https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.85.html) by Rembrandt van Rijn  
> [Self-Portrait](https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.37003.html) by Judith Leyster  
> Tapestry-covered Cushions [[1]](https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.1623.html) [[2]](https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.1620.html) [[3]](https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.1617.html)  
> [Angel of History](https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.82917.html) by Anselm Kiefer  
> [Siberian Dogs in the Snow](https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.62640.html) by Franz Marc  
> [Glass Stratum](https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.161687.html) by Robert Smithson

Derek sat at the bar and sipped the raisin-flavored beer that was his local favorite. The alcohol couldn’t have any effect on him, so he just savored the taste and the excuse to be near people without having to be with people. This was his favorite bar in DC because it wasn’t that crowded on weeknights, the guys took the hint when he didn’t want to be bothered, and the bartenders were happy to let him nurse a couple of beers over the course of the night because he tipped extremely well.

As he did most nights, he visited this bar or one of his other haunts across the country, and cursed this particular aspect of his werewolf healing abilities. The last few years had been rough, and he had plenty that he’d like to forget. He had left Beacon Hills because it was full of painful memories, but he had found that he didn’t have a place in the rest of the world. He wasn’t interested in joining another pack, and they didn’t appreciate it when another werewolf spent too much time in their territory. At least he had the money to keep a low profile, unlike the omega drifters who immediately caught the ire of werewolves and hunters alike.

While he was staring at his reflection in the bottle, he heard a familiar voice coming from the entrance. “Of course, it’s real. Who in their right mind would put Mieczyslaw on a fake? Come on, dude. It’s my 21st birthday.”

Apparently that was enough to convince the bouncer, because Derek soon saw Stiles come through the door along with a group of guys and a couple of girls who were presumably his friends. As Stiles took in the room, his eyes paused briefly on Derek, squinted slightly, and then continued on as if nothing had happened. Confused by this, Derek turned back toward the bar in order to avoid looking like he was staring.

When the group pulled up to the bar next to him, Derek decided to make another attempt. “Did I hear that it was your birthday?”

Stiles was startled. “Yeah. Was I that loud?”

Derek brushed it off. “I just have sharp ears. Let me buy your first round.”

“Oh?! Thanks.” Derek fought to keep a smile on his face to cover his confusion. He'd spent enough time in bars like this to sense that Stiles was trying not to be rude in the face of uninvited generosity from a stranger but also trying to avoid giving a false impression of interest. Not sure why an old friend would treat him like that, Derek made enough light conversation to avoid being awkward, politely indicated his disinterest in a blond friend of Stiles’s who was making it clear that he wouldn’t mind the attention of a generous man, and settled his tab.

As he walked home, he tried to puzzle out what was happening. Stiles had grown more confident and was wearing his hair in a different style than the last time he’d seen him, but Derek had no doubt that he was the same guy he’d left in Beacon Hills. It wasn’t that late in California, so he decided to make a call to someone who might know what was going on.

“Hello?”

“Hi Scott. I…”

“Who is this?”

Derek panicked. Had Scott forgotten him, too? “It’s Derek.”

“Derek?”

“Derek Hale.”

“Ooooh! Sorry, dude. I lost your number when I got a new phone. Plus, I’m really high right now.”

Derek sighed with relief. “Don’t worry about it. I was wondering if you’ve talked to Stiles recently.”

“Stiles? Sorry, dude. We lost touch freshmen year. I guess we just got busy with our own stuff. Plus, the time difference was a pain. I thought we’d catch up over the summer, but he hasn’t been back to Beacon Hills.”

Derek thought back to the last times he’d been in contact with Stiles. “The same thing had happened with me around then, but the weirdest thing just happened.”

Scott was skeptical. “Weirdest thing? After what we’ve been through?”

“I just saw Stiles, but he didn’t recognize me at all.”

That seemed to sober Scott up. “Are you sure it was him?”

“Unless there’s a doppelganger walking around with a Mieczyslaw ID who smells just like him except with a decent cologne instead of that wretched body spray.”

“Probably not.” Scott paused to consider this new information. “What’s strange is that his dad hasn’t noticed anything wrong.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My mom talks to his dad, and she has mentioned that he flies out there to visit him a few times a year. I’m sure I would have heard if Stiles had forgotten him.”

Derek frowned. It would be a lot simpler if it were a full amnesia. What erases one person and not another? “That is strange. Thanks for the help.”

“Let me know if you figure it out.”

“Sure thing.”

With the call over, he walked the rest of the way to his hotel in silence as he contemplated what to do next. As he rounded the final corner, he stopped. He wasn’t sure what had triggered it, but his intuition was warning him of danger nearby. As he scanned his surroundings, he cursed himself for being so distracted. Eventually, he concluded that whatever had been stalking him had backed off once it realized Derek wasn’t going to be caught by surprise anymore, but he still closed the distance between him and the door to the lobby as quickly as he could while still technically walking. A feeling like that was usually his sign that he needed to move on.

That night Derek tossed and turned as his imagination filled his nightmares with whatever could have happened to Stiles. During one of his waking moments when fear had not yet been overcome by exhaustion, he silently cursed himself for never making the effort to educate himself about the wider werewolf world. His family had kept the other supernatural creatures of Beacon Hills under control, but they were still dangerous and his mother had considered him too young to be involved before the fire. Afterward, he now realized Laura had been too busy grieving and wanting to keep them out of trouble to educate him. Still, he could have taken the initiative to learn on his own in the past few years.

When he woke up late the next morning, he knew he had to do something he’d hoped that he’d never have to do. He put it off for as long as he could first by paying extra attention to his morning grooming routine and then by getting himself a coffee and a donut at a local cafe. He found a bench outside a lesser known monument to eat his breakfast, but soon he was just staring at his phone delaying the inevitable. He opened his texts.

Derek: _Hey. I have a question._

He pulled out a book while he waited for a response. He was happy to take advantage of an unusually pleasant day for whatever time of the year Stiles had been born in. An hour and a half later he felt his phone buzz with the reply.

Peter: _Same old phone. Who this?_

Derek rolled his eyes.

Derek: _Ha. Ha. You know it’s me Derek._  
Peter: _It can’t be. My nephew Derek would have contacted me in the last year if he were alive._  
Derek: _Whatever. Do you know of anything that causes selective amnesia?_  
Peter: _Other than the curse?_  
Derek: _The curse?_  
Peter: _Did your mother and sister teach you nothing?_

Derek was too confused to come up with a response.

Peter: _It’s how our family grew so powerful._  
Peter: _If no one who leaves town can remember the supernatural aspects, no one can get help from the outside. Only top hunters like the Argents were a threat._

Derek processed this and realized that a lot of things he’d taken for granted from his childhood made more sense.

Derek: _So that’s why Stiles didn’t recognize me._  
Peter: _Worried that your crush was snubbing you?_  
Peter: _I’d tell you to say ‘Hi’ for me, but he wouldn’t remember me._  
Derek: _Ha. Ha. Thanks for the info._  
Derek: _Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas in the likely event I don’t talk to you before then._

Derek should be relieved. He had imagined much worse possibilities the night before. Stiles wasn’t being targeted by a darach’s spell, suffering from some supernatural disease, or being fed on by some psychological predator. He seemed to have made a new group of friends, and his relationship with his father was still intact. And with the number of times he’d wished he could forget his past, would he be so hypocritical that he’d force Stiles to remember those dark years?

He had decided to leave Stiles alone and move on to the next city. It wasn’t a good idea for a lone werewolf to spend too much time in one place. Despite what his rational side had decided, he continued to linger in town. He called down to the front desk and extended his reservation, and he found himself sitting on the same stool at the same bar as he had the week before. He would have denied what he was hoping for until the moment someone stepped up beside him.

“Hey. Aren’t you the guy who bought a round for us last week?”

Derek turned and made eye contact once again with the face from his past. He straightened his posture as he turned towards Stiles. “Oh, yeah. I hope you had a nice birthday.”

“I don’t think I got a chance to really thank you last week. I turned around and you had left. I hope James didn’t scare you off.”

Derek laughed it off. “He was a bit full on, but I had planned on leaving soon anyways.”

“Well, can I buy you a drink tonight? Just to show my gratitude.”

“Of course.”

One round became many as it appeared Stiles discovered he enjoyed this stranger’s company. Derek was careful to keep the banter light because he wanted to avoid topics like where he was from, his family, or the true nature of his extended nomadic lifestyle. He gave Stiles the impression that he was taking some time to travel the country between his last thing and the next. They discussed DC’s various attractions, and Stiles gave recommendations on what Derek had to see. Eventually, they agreed that the National Gallery would be a good choice for Derek for tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Derek relished every detail he could pick up from Stiles about what he’d been up to since they last talked. He was happy to hear that Stiles continued to excel at Georgetown. He enjoyed hearing about how he thrived with a new circle of friends. He was relieved to hear that his father hadn’t been having many problems lately. It wasn't hard to get Stiles to open up about himself without having to reveal much in return. By that point of the night, Stiles was leaning against the bar, slurring his words, and repeatedly losing his train of thought as he tried to keep up with a werewolf sober Derek.

Both were surprised and saddened by the bartender announcing last call. Realizing they would soon be parted, Stiles tried to make a move while they waited on the street outside. Derek gently resisted. “How about when you’re sober?” Stiles was bummed for a minute, but he switched back to enthusiastically grateful when the car Derek had requested for him showed up. Derek didn’t feel safe walking back this late at night, so he hailed a car for himself.

The next morning, Derek decided that he was in the mood for some art, so he made his way over to the museum. He was contemplating the sad expression of a nobleman when he was accosted for the second time in under twenty four hours. “How do you look so good after last night?”

Derek saw a hungover Stiles had managed to drag himself out of bed and across the city. “Just born with it, I guess.”

“I envy you. I had a friend in high school like that. It’s so unfair.”

Derek’s smile faltered at the mention of Scott and Stiles drifting apart, but he quickly brushed it from his thoughts. “Don’t you have classes this morning?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’d be worthless like this. Besides, you promised me we’d meet again while neglecting to give me your number.”

Derek had avoided doing that because he was worried about how Stiles would react to the revelation that they already had each other’s numbers. Thinking fast, he held out his hand. “Okay. Hand me your phone.” Fortunately, Stiles didn’t put up any resistance. While he was pretending to enter the number, he instead was searching for his entry and editing out all of the information beyond his name and number. He sent himself a text, handed Stiles his phone back, and pretended to create a new contact as Stiles was focused on his own phone.

They continued through the Dutch painters. They both agreed that a light-hearted self-portrait was their favorite. Derek noticed that Stiles was beginning to get distracted by seeing the same style, so he lead them down the stairs. On the bottom floor, Stiles was immediately taken by a set of embroidered pillows.

“These used to be just some throw pillows on some dude’s furniture, and now they’re in a museum. It’s wild.”

Derek wasn’t as impressed as Stiles was, but the observation still amused him. “We should try to make all the things in our lives worthy of being in a museum.”

“Do you even own a pillow?”

Derek was speechless. Stiles remembered more from last night than he expected. “I have owned pillows in the past, and I will own pillows in the future.”

Stiles gave him a nod to concede the point before pulling him toward the sculptures. They started a tally of dicks versus breasts, and when they found that breasts outnumbered dicks by more than the expected two to one ratio, they agreed that the patriarchy sucked.

They passed through the tunnel to the east building where the more modern art was. Derek hoped that the more varied forms would have an easier time holding Stiles’s interest. The aircraft made of lead and poppies in the center certainly was able to intrigue him.

As they were admiring an impressionist painting of two dogs, a woman who was standing next to Stiles remarked, “It’s nice, but it’s just too bad there aren’t more paintings of koalas.”

Stiles seemed to think this was a normal way to start a conversation with a stranger and responded, “Oh, definitely. A very underrepresented animal.” When he realized that she had been talking to her boyfriend who was on the other side of her, Stiles turned and walked quickly to another corner of the building. Derek was left looking confused before he chased after him.

Derek was surprised by what ended up being Stiles’s favorite piece in the museum. Derek had seen the planes of blue-green glass stacked like a staircase or a ramp and quickly moved on to another piece hanging on the wall nearby. Meanwhile, Stiles was leaning in to get a better look and circling around in order to see every angle. Intrigued, Derek walked back to Stiles. “What’s so special about this one? I could put together a bunch of sheets of glass together.”

Stiles gave him a lightly scolding look. “You could, but you didn’t. Look how the layers create patterns that change with your angle.”

Derek gave it a closer look and was surprised to see that Stiles was right. He wasn’t used to a human noticing something that he didn’t.

As they were on the landing of the stairwell in one of the towers, Stiles pulled Derek against the wall and (after a quick glance to make sure no one could see them) pressed up against him and gave him a kiss. When Stiles pulled back again, he said, “I’ve been waiting to do that all day.”

“Maybe we should move on to some place else. Are you hungry?”

Stiles paused to consider his status. “I’m starving.”

Fortunately for Stiles’s stomach, it was easy to get a table at a nearby restaurant in the middle of the afternoon. Everything was going perfectly until they began to talk about high school sports.

“I played basketball. We had some great years when I was on the team. I chose not to pursue it in college, though.”

“I played lacrosse. Our team got a few championships, but I spent most of my time on the bench.”

“My school added lacrosse shortly after I graduated. I never quite got a handle on the rules.”

“It’s not that complicated. Even as mostly a spectator, I loved the game. I even use the number from my jersey as my lucky number.”

“Twentyfour? That’s an unusual pick.”

Stiles froze. “How did you know what my jersey number was?”

Derek tried not to panic. “You must have mentioned it last night.”

Stiles began to lean back as if he subconsciously was trying to put as much distance as he could between him and Derek. “No, I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? You were pretty drunk.”

Stiles glanced off to the side as he struggled to recall something from his past. Then he gave Derek a horrified look of recognition. “Derek Hale? You’re the guy whose family’s house burned down. Are you stalking me?”

Derek cursed as he remembered Stiles had known who he was the first time they’d met and therefore before the curse would have started affecting him. “I can …”

Stiles stood up and backed away. “You know what? I don’t care. Just leave me alone.” With that he rushed out of the restaurant, almost knocking over their waitress along the way.

Derek asked for the check, which made the annoyed waitress happy. By the time he was able to get outside, Stiles was nowhere in sight. Derek wondered whether it was for the best. He had known that he should have left town as soon as he had figured out that Stiles was alright. He shook his head. Stiles deserved to know the truth, and Derek needed to stop running from his problems.

Derek sniffed the air. He could detect Stiles’s scent in the bewildering mixture of a busy city street, but following it would be harder. He started down one street but had to double back when he lost it. He’d have trouble catching up if he had to guess and check at every cross street.

He was at an intersection trying to discern Stiles’s trail when he heard something that made his heart skip a beat. It had to be a few blocks away and was muffled, but he recognized Stiles’s scream. Not waiting for the light to change, Derek sprinted in the direction of the sound.

Derek rounded a corner of an alley to come upon Stiles and a transformed werewolf. Stiles had managed to grab a board from a broken wooden pallet and was using it to fend him off. The trails of blood sliding down the werewolf’s cheek told Derek that Stiles was putting up more of a fight than either he or the other wolf had thought possible.

Derek threw himself forward, and his clothes were falling behind him before his paws even touched the ground. The werewolf was distracted enough by the transformation that Stiles was able to land another blow on his torso. Derek took advantage of the resulting loss of balance to bite his ankle and force him to fall to the ground. He then took a position in front and to the right of Stiles so that he could move to block any attack against him while still allowing Stiles to attack if needed.

The werewolf crawled backwards until he was far enough away from them to take a second to get back to his feet. He was careful to avoid turning his back to the two of them and withdrew from the fight. He tried to hide his limp, but the smears of blood his shoe was leaving behind exposed his weakness.

Derek and Stiles maintained their readiness until he reached the corner and hurried off. When they finally could relax, Derek sat down, and Stiles dropped his board and went down for a hug. “Derek! You saved me. I guess old habits die hard.” At this point, he realized that Derek had transformed back to human. “Aaaaaand you’re naked. Sorry.” Stiles stood back up and let Derek go back and get his clothes on.

As he was tying his boots, something occurred to Derek. “Old habits? You remember the other times?”

Stiles began to reflect on what had just happened. “Yeah. That guy started chasing me after I left the restaurant. I think he had been stalking us. I tried to lose him by using the alley, but he had transformed and used a shortcut. When I saw him like that, my old instincts kicked in. I don’t think he expected me to know how to handle a werewolf.”

Derek squeezed Stiles with an overjoyed hug. “Seeing him must have broke Beacon Hill’s memory curse.” Derek grabbed Stiles’s hand and lead him in the opposite direction the werewolf had gone. “We should get moving. That fight’s bound to have attracted some attention.”

As they were walking, Stiles continued to process what had happened. “Oh my god. I kissed you! I kissed Derek Hale. And you kissed me back.”

Derek nodded as he kept his eyes on their surroundings. “Yep.”

“I didn’t realize you were…. Did you realize I had a crush on you in high school?”

“On me and every other good-looking guy with abs.”

Stiles began to object but stopped himself. “Okay. That’s fair.” Stiles was uncharacteristically quiet after that until Derek stopped and relaxed.

“I think we’re far enough.”

Stiles pushed him against the wall of the building and gave him a kiss. “I hope that was okay.”

Derek smiled. “Definitely. What now?”

Stiles stepped back to give Derek room to move again. “First, we need to get you clothes that haven’t touched garbage and brush the taste of blood from your mouth. After that, I’m sure we can think of something.” They headed back to the hotel.

When Derek unlocked the door to his suite, Stiles ran past him. “Where’s the bed?” Derek pointed towards the inner doorway, and Stiles rushed through. “I’ve never had a hotel room with more than one room.”

“Really?” Derek realized his foolishness immediately afterward. It wasn’t that long ago that Stiles’s family was sweating unpaid hospital bills. Not everyone inherited a massive trust fund. Derek excused himself to brush his teeth and change his clothes as promised.

When he left the bathroom refreshed, Derek found Stiles on the phone, and he paused in the doorway so that he wouldn’t interrupt. “It’s too bad that a werewolf kiss wasn’t enough to break the curse because it would have saved me a lot of trouble. Yes, that finally happened. You werewolves and your superior senses aren’t as cute as you think you are.”

Derek chuckled at that and revealed himself. Stiles turned towards him and gave him a wink.

“Derek’s back, so I gotta go.” Stiles blushed at something he heard. “What things we are about to do is none of your business. Anyways, I promise we’ll catch up later. Bye, Scott.”

“We could always set up a video chat if Scott’s so curious.”

Stiles got up and pulled Derek in for a kiss. “First of all, I know you’re joking, but I’m not necessarily opposed to doing something like that in the future. But tonight’s just for us.”

Derek smiled. “It’s going to be interesting exploring the fantasies in that mind of yours.” He lead Stiles to the bed. They started to make out again, but as Stiles began to move his hands down to rub Derek through his pants, Derek pulled back. “Are you sure you are ready for this? It’s been a hell of a day.”

Stiles continued to grope Derek but with additional aggression. “I’m sure. I’m not the high school kid you used to know.” To emphasize his point, Stiles reached back and pulled off his T-shirt to reveal that he’d grown out of his younger scrawniness and put on some muscle. Based on the tan, Derek judged that Stiles had also lost his discomfort at being shirtless.

Derek gave an appreciative nod of acquiescence and pulled off his own shirt. Stiles’s jaw dropped at the sight of his supernaturally enhanced physique, and as soon as he recovered from his shock, he grabbed onto Derek and pulled him down on top of him on the bed. Stiles used the need to support Derek’s weight as an excuse to grab ahold of his pecs as they resumed their kissing.

Derek had one hand on the bed next to Stiles’s head, but with the other he was undoing his belt. Once he had managed to open up his pants, he stood back up in order to pull them off. Seeing what Derek was doing, Stiles hurried to catch up, and he finished undoing his own pants just in time for a now nude Derek to pull them off.

Derek kneeled down in front of Stiles and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock. He glanced up to double check that it was what Stiles wanted, and once he saw the impatient nod, he wrapped his mouth around Stiles. As he slowly worked a little farther down with each pass, Derek surprised himself with how intimate it felt this time. He’d had plenty of experience of doing this whenever his sexual needs had built up to the point that he sought release and brought a guy to a bathroom stall or his hotel room. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just putting in what was required to get what he wanted in return. This time, he cared about making Stiles feel as much pleasure as he could. He focused on even the tiniest response from Stiles so that he could learn Stiles’s body like he knew his own.

When Derek couldn’t wait any more, he fished out the condom he’d stashed in his discarded pants. Stiles perked up when he heard the distinctive crinkle of the wrapper. “I’ve actually dreamt of this.” Derek tore open the wrapper, and slipped the condom onto Stiles’s cock. “I did not imagine that happening, but I like it.” Stiles got up and motioned toward the bed. “Now it’s your turn.”

Derek laid himself down on the bed, and Stiles pushed his legs up so that Derek’s feet were on there as well. With Derek’s ass now exposed, Stiles leaned forward and began to lick Derek’s hole. Derek squirmed at the sensation of Stiles’s unexpected touch, but he worked to relax and let Stiles pushed his tongue into him. It had been so long that Derek had forgotten how much he liked being touched in this way. Stiles began to fuck Derek with his tongue, and it only heightened Derek’s desire for his cock.

Stiles must have desired to give it too Derek as well because he lifted his head up. “Lube?” Derek could only point to a nearby drawer, but Stiles had no trouble finding it. Stiles used his fingers to spread some additional slickness into Derek before covering his cock. He lined himself up with Derek and paused to give him a questioning look. Derek answered by shifting himself enough to get the tip partially inside himself.

Stiles lifted Derek’s legs over his shoulders and began to push himself inside of Derek. He started slowly, but when Stiles saw that Derek had taken his entire length without too much trouble, he picked up his pace with the following thrusts. Derek was in bliss having Stiles inside of him, and he began to realize that Stiles was paying attention to what he liked as well. With each thrust, he got a little bit better at hitting Derek in just the right spot.

Stiles used Derek’s legs to roll him onto his side. To Derek’s surprise, Stiles managed the maneuver without missing a beat. To Derek’s greater surprise, the new position suited the curve of Stiles’s dick perfectly. Stiles slowed down to tease Derek, but that didn’t prevent his body from tingling or prevent the wave of pleasure from continuing to rise. It was soon too much for Derek, and he moaned and spilled his seed over his bed. Seeing that Derek had been taken care of, Stiles increased his speed in pursuit of his own orgasm. Once he had decided he wanted to come, it didn’t take long for him to get what he wanted. He threw his head back and emptied himself.

Once he was done, Stiles leaned against Derek’s leg as he recovered before pulling out. Once he had disposed of the condom, he pulled Derek up. “Let’s get cleaned off.” Fortunately, Derek’s suite included a jacuzzi tub big enough for the two of them. For a while, they washed each other in silence. It gave them a chance to explore each other’s bodies without the impatience of sexual desire.

When they were satisfied that they were clean, Derek leaned back against the edge of the tub and Stiles leaned back against him. Although he wasn’t saying anything, Derek could tell based on his heartbeat and the reflection he caught in the mirror that Stiles had something on his mind. Derek didn’t press and chose instead to gently rub Stiles’s forearm with his thumb in the hope of helping him relax.

Stiles broke the silence. “So, what happens now?”

Derek had been wondering the same thing, but he needed to know what specifically was worrying Stiles. “What do you mean?”

“It can’t be safe for you to stay here after what we did to one of the local werewolves. Isn’t that why you’ve been traveling from city to city?”

Derek let himself consider the implications of what happened. “Before, I’d be leaving town right now and never coming back. There’s a reason why I haven’t been back to Salt Lake City.”

“And now?”

“I’ll have to work something out.”

“They’ll let you after what you did?”

“Werewolf culture treats fights like that differently than humans do. I’ll probably have to form some sort of relationship with their pack.”

“Why haven’t you done that before.”

“I’ve never had a reason to.”


End file.
